A Man Knows
by PrincessFi
Summary: A series of interludes between Gibbs and DiNozzo. A bit of fun and a teasing hint of slash only. Rated M for one particularly lurid line in chapter 1! Chapter 5 now up!
1. Chapter 1

I've been too serious, and now I need a bit of fun. I don't write slash, and this is not actually slash, but I wanted to use MW's comment about their being sexual tension between DiNozzo and Gibbs, and his joke about how, instead of Tiva, they should make Gibbs bi-curious.

Rated M for 1 particularly lurid line!

**A Man Knows**

The latest victim told them that the attacker was a white man of around 25 who smelled of sweat, liniment and horses. She had been raped in the early evening not far from the equestrian fields near the naval base. Two navy teams had competed in a polo game shortly before the attack and Gibbs' gut told him that their perp had been involved in the game. Rather than showing their hand by bringing both teams in for questioning, they decided to run an undercover op.

Within a few days DiNozzo had himself taken on as a rookie player. Soon he was training during the day and swapping stories over beers with the guys in the evenings. Slowly the list of suspects narrowed.

One afternoon DiNozzo came into the office after a training session, his face flushed, shirt sweat-marked, jodhpurs and boots covered in mud. He dropped his bag behind his desk and collapsed into the chair with a groan. Ziva looked at him, her eyebrows raised.

"Well?" she asked.

"Well what?" he retorted wearily.

"Did you find out anything new today?" Ziva asked in exasperation.

"Yeah," he confessed, running a hand through his hair. "I hate horses."

She looked at him again. "What else?" she demanded.

"Channing is off the list," he said shortly.

"Why?"

"Because he is."

"Why?" she insisted.

He stood, and lifted his bag onto the desk and began rummaging in it.

Now McGee stopped typing and looked at him as well.

"Tony?" he asked.

"Channing is gay," he responded without looking up.

Ziva and McGee exchanged a look.

"Why do you say that?" Ziva asked.

Tony kept rummaging.

"Tony?" she pressed.

Finally he raised his head. "Because he hit on me," he admitted finally.

She snorted. "You think everyone is hitting on you."

His glared at her and then turned and caught the smirk on McGee's face. "Face it, Tony," the probie confirmed, "you do."

"I am a trained investigator," DiNozzo protested, extracting his work shoes from his bag and slamming them onto his desk. "I know when I am being hit on."

"Sure Tony," McGee snickered.

Gibbs walked in to the bullpen, coffee in hand.

"DiNozzo, report," he ordered.

DiNozzo looked at the other two agents. "I haven't been able to alibi Wyman and French yet," he stated. "But Channing is off the list."

"Why?"

DiNozzo sighed. "Because he's gay."

Gibbs leaned back against the edge of his desk. He saw Ziva and McGee exchange amused looks and his brow furrowed.

"Tony thinks Channing hit on him," Ziva reported smugly.

Gibbs looked back at DiNozzo, eyebrows raised. He knew his senior agent was tired. He had been leading a double life for weeks now, maintaining a false identity and trying to work a caseload at the same time.

"You sure about that?" Gibbs asked quietly, sipping his coffee.

"Yeah Boss, I am," the agent replied wearily.

"Ziva and McGee don't agree." Gibbs was testing, not teasing.

"No kidding, Boss," DiNozzo threw the bag back on the floor. "Maybe they're right. Maybe I am imagining it. I mean he didn't come out and say "I'm gay", but using my superior investigative skills, I deduced it from his actions".

"You couldn't be wrong, DiNozzo?"

Tony turned and looked at Gibbs. After a second's thought, his posture changed. His eyelids dropped a little, his head tilted slightly to the side and he ran his tongue slowly across is bottom lip. Then he walked slowly across the bullpen, stopping inches from Gibbs. The team leader straightened up from his desk and the two men stood, their faces almost touching.

DiNozzo hooked a thumb into his waistband of his skin tight, off white jodhpurs. Shifting his weight and cocking his hip, he tugged the waistband down slightly, exposing an elongated triangle of skin around his middle.

"Well, Boss," DiNozzo breathed, his gaze locked with his Gibbs', "I think the big clue was when he pushed me up against the wall, stuck his hand down my pants and offered to suck my cock till my nose bled."

All the air was drawn out of the room. Ziva and McGee were motionless, their eyes wide and fixed on their lead and senior agents. Gibbs met DiNozzo's gaze and one corner of his mouth gave an almost imperceptible twitch.

"You take him up on the offer, Tony?" he asked quietly.

Tony paused, and tilted his head. "I thought about it, Boss," he murmured, dragging his eyes like fingers up and down the other man's body. "After all," he leaned slightly closer, "you know what they say."

"What do they say, DiNozzo?" Gibbs' voice was a velvet growl.

"They say men give the best blow jobs."

"They say that, do they DiNozzo?" Now Gibbs seemed to be leaning towards his senior field agent. "Why is that, do you think?"

"Well Boss," Tony leaned even closer, as if whispering a secret, "a man knows what a man likes."

The air seemed to coalesce around them. Ziva and McGee were barely there, circling in some distant orbit.

Finally Tony leaned back a little and smiled. "But no, Boss, I didn't take him up on it." He sounded almost regretful. "I'm a professional and I had work to do."

Gibbs sat back down against his desk and raised the coffee to his lips.

DiNozzo turned and walked - his ordinary, loose limbed walk - back to his desk. McGee and Ziva both let out breaths they had not known they were holding and flicked glances between the two men. Gibbs' eyes never left DiNozzo's back.

As he reached his desk DiNozzo bent from the waist to pick up his bag. His jodhpurs tightened over his buttocks and he seemed to linger a moment longer than necessary. Gibbs looked at him over the rim and took another slow sip. He lowered the cup and licked the foam from his lips.

DiNozzo picked up his bag threw it over his shoulder. He turned to head for the shower, but then paused. Glancing back over his shoulder he gave a slow, lingering smile at his team leader and batted his eyes. "And anyway" he purred, "he wasn't my type."


	2. Chapter 2

Okay, now I'm just getting silly.

********

They wrapped up the case within a week. No-one knew how Tony got Wyman's DNA sample and no-one asked. It didn't matter in the end because the bastard confessed, not just to the one rape, but to two more.

The other players on the team were shocked – shocked that Wyman was a rapist, shocked that their new star recruit was an undercover NCIS agent. But anger at Wyman quickly overtook any issues with Tony and they invited him to play in the last game of the season the Saturday after Wyman was indicted.

The whole NCIS team attended, watching from the sidelines as Navy downed Army 9 1/4 goals to 5 1/2. Abby had googled the rules the day before and, to the surprise of other spectators, the Goth was able to expound on the "line of the ball" and the various shots executed by the players. To Ziva's amusement and McGee's annoyance Abby also provided a running commentary on the players' buns, thighs and shoulders and how good the jodhpurs looked when wet with sweat and mud. Tony played most of the game, and scored twice. Abby cheered enthusiastically every time he went near the ball and even Ziva and McGee grudgingly admitted that he did seem to be quite good. Gibbs was quiet, watching the game from behind dark aviator sunglasses and an even darker French roast grandee.

When the game was over Tony joined them for a drink, wearing a sweaty uniform, a mud splattered face and a grin a mile wide, which only grew wider when Abby threw himself on him and told him he rocked.

They all congratulated Tony and rehashed the game over a round of beers. Gibbs went to the bar to get refills and when he didn't return Tony turned to look for him.

"There he is," Ziva indicated. "Talking to that....

"..incredibly good looking," Abby breathily interjected.

"... man,' Ziva finished.

"Who is he?" asked Abby, eyes wide. "He's a god."

Tony was silent. Ziva glanced at him. His previous excitement seemed to have evaporated and his face now wore a slight frown.

She raised her eyebrows in inquiry.

"That's the captain," Tony said shortly. "Channing."

"Channing?" McGee questioned, mouth dropping open. "The one who offered to..."

"Yes McTattle," Tony snarled. "That one."

Ziva blew out a slow breath. "Well, he might not be your type, Tony, but he's certainly my type."

"And mine," Abby echoed enthusiastically.

"And ..." McGee paused, "... Gibbs' type?"

Tony's head spun around and he glared at McGee.

"Well, look at him!" McGee defended.

Tony did. Channing, blond hair ruffled by sweat, shirt undone at the collar, jodhpurs clinging to his hard thighs like cling wrap to sushi, was standing very, very close to Gibbs. And Gibbs was smiling. And laughing. And dropping his eyes a little. And not moving away. Tony's hand tightened on his empty glass.

Finally Gibbs turned and walked towards the group, expertly carrying 5 beers.

They all drank silently for a minute, none willing to risk speaking.

Finally Gibbs broke the silence. "Nice guy," he reported conversationally.

"Yeah," Tony sighed dejectedly, "he is." He stared into his beer, not raising his eyes to Gibb's scrutiny.

"He asked if I rode."

Now Tony's head shot up.

"Said I did," Gibbs continued, his eyes locked on Tony. He stepped closer to his senior field agent and Tony's eyes narrowed. "Told him I'd been riding with you once. Said there was nothing I liked better," Gibbs paused, "than a good, hard ride."

Gibbs took a sip of his beer and licked his lips. Tony's face relaxed, his eyes softened and one corner of his mouth twitched.

"You been riding for a while, Boss?" he asked steadily.

"Yep," Gibbs replied, in the same easy tone. "I've been throwing my leg over since I was just a boy."

They leaned towards each other, somehow both casual and predatory at the same time. "I'm still learning Boss," Tony replied quietly. "Maybe you can give me some ... lessons?"

"I'd like that." Now Gibbs mouth twitched. "From what I saw, DiNozzo, you've got a good seat." He ran his eyes down to over Tony's body and licked his lips. "And good hands," he murmured.

"Oh Boss," Tony breathed, biting his bottom lip. "Believe me, I have really, really good hands."

Abby pressed her fingers to her lips, trying unsuccessfully to keep suppress a whimper. McGee and Ziva exchanged glances, both wondering if there was somewhere else they should be. Anywhere else. Now.

Time stretched like a new pair of lycra bike shorts.

Then Tony leaned his body back, snapping the moment. He dropped his eyes. "That is," he murmured a little sadly, "unless you're too busy." He eyes flicked over to Channing, now standing a few feet away and chatting to another group of spectators.

Gibbs favoured the captain with an appraising look, eyes lingering over the curve of his buttocks and thighs. But then he looked back at Tony.

"Nah, DiNozzo," he reassured. He turned his shoulder a little to block out the rest of the group and leaned his head in closer to the younger man. His breath was hot on Tony's ear. "He's not my type either."

FF_1569342


	3. Chapter 3

"Honeybuns," Gibbs growled.

"Big Boy," Tony responded coyly.

"Sex Machine".

"Gunnybear."

"You just made that one up," Gibbs accused.

"Yeah," Tony agreed. "It's good though."

Ziva and McGee stood out of sight of the bullpen, gazing at each other in horror.

"I can't stop thinking about you," Gibbs mused.

"About my hot body," Tony amended helpfully.

"Yep." A pause. "I want to drizzle honey all over you and lick it off."

"Nice, Boss." Tony sounded genuinely impressed.

McGee risked a quick glance around the partition and saw Tony's sitting at his desk, Gibbs close beside him, their heads almost touching.

Tony thought for a moment. "I can't wait to press my mouth all over you, your fingers running through my hair as I set your body on fire with my lips and tongue."

McGee recoiled and looked at Ziva, eyes wide. She raised her hand to her mouth and shook her head. He wondered if she was resisting laughing or throwing up.

"Good stuff," Gibbs murmured softly.

"More?" they heard Tony ask.

"I will never forget our nights together, your body hard against mine, touching, caressing, our sweat mingling, our limbs entwined, until we exploded in mutual passion." Gibbs voice was low, thoughtful.

"Over and over again," Tony added.

"Right."

Silence.

"You two gonna stand there all day or do you plan on coming back to your desks?" Gibbs asked the question quietly, but there was no doubt to whom it was directed. McGee and Ziva looked at each other and each drew a deep breath. Ziva tucked her hair behind her ears, McGee straightened his tie. They exchanged a nod and then stepped out together from behind the partition.

"Boss," McGee said smoothly. "Tony."

Ziva just nodded.

Neither Gibbs nor Tony acknowledged their greeting. They simply stayed sitting side by side, leaning in towards each other. Tony looking at his computer screen, fingers poised over his keyboard.

"How big am I?" Tony asked.

"Huge," Gibbs replied fervently.

McGee strangled a moan. Ziva sat straight in her chair and silently recited the periodic table of elements in Hebrew. She was a trained Mossad assassin. She could withstand torture. She could withstand this. She could.

"How long have we been doing this now?" Tony asked contemplatively.

"Six months?"

"Sounds about right. Started at the office Christmas party."

Gibbs gave a quiet huff of laughter. "You were wearing those really tight jeans that showed off your ass."

"And there was mistletoe," Tony reminded him.

"Lots of mistletoe. And egg nog."

"I'll never forget your eggnog kisses," Tony sighed dramatically.

It was too much. Ziva shot up from her desk. "Stop this!" she demanded. "Now! It is... it is..."

"Oh c'mon Ziva," Tony protested. "Don't be so unromantic."

Gibbs chuckled.

The Israeli threw her hands in the air and let fly with a string of language that, had they understood it, would have had her on report.

Tony and Gibbs simply looked at her. When she stopped, they turned in unison to look at McGee.

He kept his eyes fixed on his computer keyboard. "What she just said," he affirmed without looking at them, "but in English."

Tony clicked his tongue. "Doesn't sound like they want to join in, Boss."

"Pity," Gibbs responded. "They would have been good, both of them. And we could really have done with a woman's involvement."

Ziva made the same noise a cat makes if you slam its tail in the door of a dishwasher.

"Again, what she just said," McGee endorsed. He paused, then added, "not that there's anything wrong with that."

There was a moment of silence.

"Maybe we could ask Abby," Tony suggested.

Gibbs stood and slowly walked back to his desk. "I am sure Abby would be happy to help, but she's not quite what I had in mind." He sat down.

"Probie could really have helped us out," Tony noted sadly.

McGee's jaw clenched, but he did not respond.

"Yep," Gibbs agreed. "McGee is just what we needed. Being a writer and all."

That made him look up. "What do you mean, being a writer and all?" McGee exchanged a glance with Ziva but she looked as confused as he felt.

Gibbs looked at the junior agent in exasperation. "Weren't you listening earlier? Part of Tony's cover is that he is having an affair with someone on the base. We put some hot and spicy emails in his inbox and the hacker wont being able to resist reading them. Abby's embedding a program so we can track whoever opens them. I had thought you could write them for us, but you were too busy having a long lunch."

McGee swallowed.

Gibbs stood up and moved away from his desk. "I'm going to check on Abby's progress. DiNozzo, you're with me."

Tony leapt up from his desk bounded after the team leader into the lift.

Ziva glared at McGee. "This is your fault," she snapped. "You made me look like a putz."

McGee's mouth dropped open.

"Do not deny it! A shmoe," Ziva continued, rising and advancing towards him across the bullpen, "a shmuck, a..... a ..... shmeggegie!"

McGee stood to confront her. "How is this my fault?!"

"You were eavesdropping first! If I had not seen you eavesdropping I would not have listened!"

"Yes you would!" McGee protested. They glared at each other for a moment longer, before Ziva spat out a word McGee did not even want to understand, turned and stalked back to her desk.

They worked in silence for a few minutes, and then McGee sat bolt upright in his chair. "Whoa!" he exclaimed.

"What now Mc.. Mc.. McFool?" Ziva finished, inadequately she thought.

But McGee's fingers were flying over his keyboard, his eyes fixed on his monitor.

Ziva sensed that this was important. "Put on the plasma!" she demanded.

Suddenly images were flying across the screen as McGee raced from directory to directory, folder to folder.

"There!" McGee announced triumphantly.

Ziva recognised the photo. She should – she had taken it. It showed Tony and Gibbs at last year's office Christmas party. A small sprig of greenery could be seen in the top on the photo above their heads. Tony wore blue jeans and a big smile. Gibbs wore an eggnog moustache.


	4. Chapter 4

_Thank you to those who reviewed - this is for you! I don't know if there will be more chapters, but I did so enjoy writing this one! If you like it, then post a review, and who knows what might happen!_

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He wasn't the best choice for the undercover operation, but the suspects expected to meet a man in his mid 50s and no amount of hair dye and makeup could guarantee that DiNozzo would pass inspection.

So it fell to Gibbs to infiltrate the dark and dangerous world of the spring/summer haute couture menswear collections.

The navy had developed a superlight, super tough fabric of manmade spider silk, remarkable for its toughness, strength, lightness and biodegradability. Quantities of the valuable material were going missing and NCIS suspected that it was being sold to clothing manufacturers.

Gibbs was going undercover as an executive from a high end men's suit emporium. He had arranged a meeting with a possible supplier that night. It would be their first face to face meeting.

"But Director," DiNozzo protested, one hand waving vaguely in the team leader's direction, "he can't meet them in that ..."

DiNozzo's voice trailed off in the face of Gibbs' glare, but he was right. There was no way in hell Gibbs' Sears 06/07 ensemble was going to pass muster.

"I never thought I'd say this," Jenny conceded, pulling a credit card out of her pocket, "but Tony, take him shopping."

As she turned on her Jimmy Choo heel, DiNozzo silently pumped a fist into the air.

"And Tony," she continued without turning, as the pump was quickly converted into a stretch, "you're going to the meet as his assistant." She didn't need to look back to know how Tony would react to that news, but there was more to come. "One new shirt and one new tie - that's all you get."

"Yes Ma'am!" he promised her retreating figure, his grin growing ever wider.

Gibbs was still glaring at him, but nothing could wipe the smile from the young man's face. "Boss," he said, stepping forward and wrapping an arm around the team leader's shoulders, "we're going shopping!"

Gibbs continued to glare. "It's a mission, Tony! Not a bad reality tv show!"

"Right Boss, right," Tony reassured him, winding back his smile a notch and dropping his arm.

Grabbing their gear, they headed from the bullpen. Just as the lift doors closed, Tony's voice floated back to the rest of the team.

"Boss, have you ever heard of "manscaping"?

***

It was 4 hours before they returned and McGee and Ziva were checking their watches. The meet was in less than 2 hours, and the only contact they had had with Tony and Gibbs was when Tony phoned and asked Ziva to bring the free-standing full length mirror from the women's locker room to the bullpen. She did not even ask how he knew there was a free-standing full length mirror in the women's locker room.

When they returned, each man carried a suitbag and Tony literally bounced with excitement.

"Ziva, McGee," he called on setting foot in the bullpen, "do you want to see what we bought? Of course you do. Gibbs, go put the suit on. Go on, go on."

To the amazement of the other team members, Gibbs simply chuckled, turned on his heel and headed to the men's room.

McGee and Ziva exchanged a glance and McGee immediately despatched a coded email. Tony occupied himself by removing a plain white shirt and pale green tie from his bag and hanging them on a wooden hangar in his cupboard.

Abby and Ducky arrived at the bullpen before Gibbs did.

"We ... um , we...," Abby stumbled to explain their presence, but was saved by the director descending majestically down the stairs.

"I see you're back, DiNozzo," she commented. "Where is Agent Gibbs?"

And, suddenly, there was Agent Gibbs.

He stood silent at the entrance to the bullpen, resplendent in a black suit with a thin, barely visible black-on-black stripe, a white shirt and silver tie. It was just a suit, but what a suit.

Abby gasped, clapping her hands over her mouth. Ziva growled and licked her lips. Jenny just stared, mouth slightly open, eyes wide. And McGee was hit by an explosion of jealousy so powerful that it left spots dancing before his eyes.

After a moment Gibbs strode across the bullpen, Tony at his side. He stood silently before the mirror, his hands clasped before him, gazing critically at his reflection.

"Will it do?" he asked, his eyes flicking towards Tony.

"Oh yes," Jenny murmured. "It'll do."

Tony shot her a sideways glance, one eyebrow momentarily lifting.

"Obviously," Tony responded, "bespoke would be best, but we didn't have the time." His tone was not accusing, just a little regretful. "So we tried European, British and American styling. In the end we went for a British cut."

"Good choice," Ducky commented approvingly.

"Thanks Ducky," Tony acknowledged. "We chose one with very little shoulder padding. After all, its not like he needs any help there." He ran his eyes across Gibbs' form and smiled appreciatively before continuing.

"So we have a nipped waist, a single vent – a more American touch - and flapped pockets. But the fabric is pure Italian. We've gone for the highest quality, a Super 200 worsted wool. It has the most luxurious feel and it's so light, it's like being naked." His eyes softened dreamily, before he blinked. "But naked in a good way. Not in a naked away." He moved on. "And obviously, we have gone for full canvas."

He looked around, expecting a response, and the team nodded and murmured as if they understood.

Tony stepped up to stand behind Gibbs, who rolled his shoulders slightly and turned his head, feeling the stretch of the fabric.

By this time, every agent on the floor and every woman in the building had assembled in or near the bullpen.

"Look at the fit of these trousers," Tony enthused. "The waistline is perfect." To his audience's alarm he stepped closer behind Gibbs, slid a hand around his waist and stuck two fingers inside the trouser's waistband. But Gibbs simply shot Tony a brief look over his shoulder and smirked. "And no pleats – not needed when you're in such good shape, Boss." He withdrew the offending fingers and gestured downwards. "And the trouser breaks perfectly over the laces of his Tanino Crisco shoes. We could have gone for cuffed trousers, because he's tall enough, but I thought it might be gilding the lily."

Tony stepped back slightly. "Shoot your cuffs for me, Boss," he requested with a smug grin.

Gibbs rolled his eyes, but he did as ordered, giving each white shirt cuff a quick tug.

"A plain white Edward Stripe shirt," Tony commented, "and one for me too." His eyes flicked towards the director, teasing. "You can never go wrong with a good quality white shirt."

"The sleeve length on the jacket is perfect," Tony pointed out. "The cuff just reaches the base of the thumb, so you can see around half an inch of shirt sleeve. So classy. So Bond."

Ziva glanced around and realised that the young agent beside her was taking notes.

Tony again stepped up behind Gibbs, gently resting his hands on his waist. After a moment, he slid his hands forward, wrapping the team leader in a loose embrace. McGee's eyes widened and he glanced at the director, whose mouth was set in a firm, closed line. Her eyes were fixed on Tony, her nostrils flaring.

But if he was aware of the ice cracking beneath his feet, Tony ignored it. He moved his hands lightly as they did up the middle button on the jacket, appearing for a moment to caress Gibbs' Super 200, before floating back to rest again on Gibbs' waist. There were those present who, discussing the incident later in the cafeteria, claimed that Gibbs leant slightly back to touch against Tony's broad chest, but Ziva and McGee vehemently denied it, as did the director.

"Of course, its single breasted, 3 buttoned jacket," Tony continued, "double breasted would be over the top and only too skinny guys wear 4 buttoned. This is a classic, and you're a classic guy Boss." Gibbs did not respond, but the corner of his mouth twitched in another slight smile. "The jacket fits really well across your stomach, and it has a nice curve on the waist to give a good body shape, making the shoulders look even wider. And the vent makes it sit perfectly over the butt."

Tony breathed out a satisfied sigh. "It's perfect," he purred.

The assembled crowd shared a moment of silent appreciation of the beauty of Gibbs and the suit.

"What do you think of this tie, Tony?" Gibbs asked calmly. "Should I wear this silver Charvet, or the patterned Zegna?"

Tony paused and stepped back. Reaching into the suit bag he withdrew another tie, a pale blue background with an occasional darker blue paisley randomly placed down its length. He reached around from behind Gibbs, and held it up so it hung from Gibbs' collar over the existing tie. Then he dropped his wrist, moving the tie away to expose the silver tie. Then he put it back. Then he took it away. Gibbs stood motionless and silent, allowing the maestro to work his magic.

"The Charvet," Tony announced decided. "Powerful. Confident. And it makes your eyes really pop."

"Oh yeah," Abby breathed. "It so does."

"Whatever you say, Tony," Gibbs acquiesced, glancing over his shoulder at the younger man and giving him a small smile. Tony returned the smile, his arms still encircling the team leader's shoulders.

"Ready, Boss?" he asked softly.

"Never been more ready, Tony."

I think we're all pretty much ready, Ziva thought weakly.

Tony stepped back towards his desk, but Gibbs remained standing in front of the mirror.

"Do you remember the spiel, Boss?" Tony asked, stripping off his shirt and reaching for the new one on the hanger.

Gibbs was silent, and whether he was looking at his own reflection or that of his senior agent, no-one could say.

"Gibbs?" Tony prompted.

Gibbs started, turned and began to speak. "This season we are looking at hyper-tailored jackets, nipped at the waist, and narrow trousers with small cuffs. As for fabrics, we're moving from a sober gray-flannel to a celebration of sheen and colour, mainly monochromes but ranging from pale pastels to purple, teal, and a fiery, orangey red."

Ziva's mouth dropped open.

"And?" Tony pressed.

"And I'm thinking white for summer – a fresh change after those autumnal shades of rust and burgundy."

"Atta boy," Tony said warmly.

****

The mission was a success. There were a few tense moments but Gibbs passed muster. They inspected the material and were able to get the suppliers talking, finally extracting enough information to confirm that they were looking at the stolen navy supplies. The arrests were trouble-free – the suppliers were so taken aback by the fact that their spectacularly dressed new customer was a federal agent that they put up little resistance.

Back at headquarters, Tony and Gibbs spent a few minutes updating the director. As they descended to the bullpen, Tony's voice could be heard.

"But Boss, I can't believe I did that. We could have been killed. All because of my stupid mistake. I mean, Boss, if they had seen those balls....."

"They didn't see the balls, Tony. Stop harping on about it."

There was a moment silence as both men settled at their desks.

McGee closed his eyes before speaking. "I know I am going to regret asking this, but...."

"When Gibbs bent down to look at the material," Tony explained, "his trouser leg rode up and you could see his socks. And they had those balls on them. Those nasty balls that cheap socks get after a few wears. No man in that suit would wear socks with balls; it could have blown our cover. I didn't think of it. I forgot to buy him socks and...."

"Tony!" Gibbs interrupted. "You were the only person who saw the balls. Forget the balls!"

Tony was silent for a moment. Then he stood and walked over to Gibbs' desk. "I can't Boss, I just can't," he confessed. "But I know what I need to do. I need to make it right."

Gibbs stood up from his desk and moved to stand directly in front of his senior agent. "How are you going to do that, Tony?" he asked calmly.

"It's obvious," Tony announced. "Tomorrow. You and me. And socks."

"Socks?" Gibbs asked. "You and me?"

"Yeah, Boss," Tony replied firmly, tapping a gentle finger against Gibbs' chest. "Tomorrow. You and me," he promised. "And mind blowingly good socks."


	5. Chapter 5

**Yet another thing that _A Man Knows_**

Gibbs whispered in Tony's ear.

Tony's jaw dropped. "I can't believe she asked you to do that!" he whispered back, incredulous.

Gibbs' only response was a heavy sigh.

"Has she ever asked you to do it before?"

"Nope."

"Not even in Paris?"

Gibbs shook his head.

"I never thought she'd be into ... that sort of thing."

"Me either." Another heavy sigh from Gibbs.

"Are you going to do it?"

"What choice do I have?" Gibbs responded bitterly. "She's the director. And she knows about... you know."

"Oh," Tony said softly. "When?"

"Saturday night. But I told her - only once. Once, and never again."

There was silence, and then Gibbs spoke again, his voice hesitant.

"Tony, I ... I need your help." He paused before continuing. "I don't ... I've never...never done it before."

"Never?" Tony's voice rose a little.

"Shhhh," Gibbs admonished. He gave another sigh. "Well, I've done, you know, stuff, but nothing quite so....."

"Oh," was Tony's soft reply.

"And I thought you could maybe," Gibbs hesitated again, "you know, ..."

"Give you some pointers?"

"Show me how to do it."

There was a stunned silence.

Finally Tony spoke. "So, you want me to ... do it... with you?"

"Yeah."

"Boss, I'm... flattered, I suppose." There was a pause, but when he spoke again there was a note of suspicion in Tony's voice. "What makes you think I know how to do it?"

Gibbs snorted. "C'mon Tony," he said bluntly. "I know you. I know what you're like. And I know about the clubs."

Tony dropped his head and stared at the floor.

Gibbs rested a hand on his shoulder and spoke quietly. "I don't judge you Tony, really I don't." Tony raised his head and looked his team leader in the eye. Now it was Gibbs' turn to look away. "It's never been my thing before, but that doesn't mean I ... haven't .. you know, thought about it."

"You've thought about it?"

"Yeah," Gibbs' voice was low, husky. He squeezed Tony' shoulder and moved a little closer. "But I couldn't do anything. I was a Marine, for god's sake. So I just laughed along with the other guys and pretended I wasn't interested. But I thought about it. And since I met you, I've been thinking about it more. A lot more."

Tony reached out and gently rested a hand on Gibbs arms.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of. I'm not ashamed."

"I know. And you're right not to be ashamed. That's why I'm asking you and no-one else. I trust you Tony."

"Does the Director know that you've never....?"

Gibbs shook his head. "I don't know. I don't think she cares. Or she does know and this is just some sort of power trip for her!" he said bitterly.

Tony swore. "We'll show her. There's no way she's going to be your first!"

Gibbs drew a harsh breath. "That's what I hoped you'd say."

"Saturday morning, 6.00am, your place?"

Gibbs shook his head. "I think I'd prefer neutral territory."

"The gym?" Tony suggested. "There won't be anyone there. Plenty of room, and we can lock the door and take all day if we have to. I'll bring everything we need."

Gibbs nodded. Tony pulled the older man into a rough hug. "Don't worry, Boss. You'll be in good hands."

"I know Tony. And thanks."

They stepped apart and walked together from the break room.

McGee leaned his head against the inside of the cupboard door, and wondered yet again why he let Ziva talk him into these things.

*******

They were late. Ziva collected 2 speeding fines between McGee's apartment and headquarters, and her argument with the cop after the second fine wasted valuable time. Then they had trouble removing the outer housing from the duct. It was 6.45 by the time they were in position inside an air-conditioning conduit looking out into the gym. The space was limited, but it was the only way to see into the gym. As it was their view was restricted and they could only see the the two men from the chest up.

Gibbs and Tony appeared to have just taken a break. They were sitting next to each other on a bench, shirtless, covered in sweat and breathing heavily.

"Wow," Gibbs exhaled noisily.

"Yeah," Tony agreed with a laugh.

"I had no idea it would be so...."

"Exhausting?"

"Exhilarating."

Tony turned and grinned at him. "Converted?"

"Oh yeah."

They shared a quiet laugh.

"But you're right," Gibbs panted, "it is exhausting. My lower back is killing me."

"Wait till tomorrow," Tony advised wearily, "it wont just be your back that's hurting!"

Ziva and McGee exchanged horrified glances.

"So how did I do?" Gibbs asked, a little shyly.

"You rocked," was the immediate answer.

Gibbs chuckled and shook his head.

"Seriously Boss," Tony insisted, "you were great."

"Not "Boss", Tony," Gibbs corrected softly, "not when we're doing this."

Tony gave him a shy smile. "Gibbs?" he suggested.

Gibbs nodded.

"Well, Gibbs," Tony continued, "I'm serious. You were really good. I can't believe it was your first time. You really nailed it. Your hold was perfect - nice and firm, without being crushing, and you set a good rhythm."

Gibbs ducked his head, seemingly embarrassed by this assessment. Then he looked up gave Tony a smile. "You made it so easy, you're a good teacher."

Tony snorted. "It's not a role I'm used to."

"Teaching? You do it every day."

"That's not what I meant."

Gibbs paused, then realisation dawned. "Oh, I see. You mean you don't normally..."

Tony nodded. "Usually I prefer your part of the job. It's different when you're on the other side."

Gibbs looked up sharply. "I'm sorry Tony, I never thought..."

"Don't worry about it," Tony interrupted. "Really. It's different, but it's still good. In fact, with someone like you, I can see the attraction of it. " He stood. "C'mon, you ready for another round?"

"Born ready," Gibbs shot back with a laugh. But as he moved from his seated position, he winced and sank back on to the bench.

Tony reached down a hand. Gibbs looked up at him with a chagrined smile and reached out his hand. Their finger met and Gibbs rose to his feet. They stood for a moment, and then moved across the gym, still holding hands. Ziva glanced down, and saw a pile of exercise mats, waist high, directly in front of them. With shaking hand she pointed to it and McGee drew a sharp breath.

"I can't look!" the Mossad assassin whispered pressing her face into McGee's chest.

"But this was your idea!" he hissed back.

"C'mon," Tony said softly, "put your arm around me."

Now both watchers had their eyes closed. But Tony's voice still reached them, teasing this time.

"Assume the position."

Gibbs' only answer was a throaty chuckle.

"Feet shoulder width apart."

"My shoulders or yours?"

"Behave. And make sure your right foot is in between mine. That way our knees won't bang."

There was the sound of shuffling movement then Tony continued his instructions. "Bend your knees slightly to keep the bounce in your leg, otherwise you'll cramp up."

More shuffling. Ziva was just steeling herself to peek when Tony spoke again.

"Hold me closer."

Go to Defcon 4, she thought desperately, ducking her head back into McGee's armpit.

"Remember, you're in charge here. This is your play. You control the pace. Don't let her precede you – you move first and then she moves, her body answering yours."

Gibbs snorted. Then he sighed. "I dunno, Tony. I just can't seem to get into it this time."

"Relax," Tony soothed. "This is all about pleasure, it's not a work out or a competition. How about I put on some music, would that help?"

The soft sound of a jazz combo filled the air behind Tony's voice.

"Just bring your body against mine, connecting from the thighs up. Remember, it's just two bodies, establishing a rhythm, moving together."

As he spoke, two other bodies started moving together as McGee and Ziva simultaneously began trying to crab crawl backwards through the conduit. They had heard enough, but Tony's voice followed them, rising in pitch and volume.

"Oh yeah Gibbs, that's better. Now you're getting it. Oh yes sweet move!"

******

Monday came all too soon. Ziva and McGee were at their desks, their best poker faces in place, when Tony emerged whistling from the lift. Gibbs appeared soon after, descending a little gingerly down the stairs from the director's office.

"Morning Boss," Tony said chirpily.

"Morning DiNozzo," came the steady reply.

"You okay Boss?" Tony asked lightly. "Haven't hurt that knee again have you?"

Gibbs shot him a glare, but the hint of a smile tugged at his lip. Tony batted wide, innocent eyes at the team leader.

"Not my knee, DiNozzo, no."

McGee began striking random keys; Ziva mentally recited the procedure for dismantling a SR-25 7.62 mm semi-automatic sniper rifle.

Tony smirked a little and sat down. Gibbs sat more slowly.

It wasn't long before Gibbs rose from desk and headed to the coffee machine. Tony waited the expected ten seconds before following him. As soon as he was out of sight, McGee and Ziva scurried to the janitor's closet and pressed their ears to the ventilation grille that lead into the break room.

Gibbs voice was soft, but not too soft.

"I couldn't have got through it without you.'

"So she was satisfied?"

"Oh yeah Tony, she was satisfied. So satisfied that she wants another date this weekend."

Tony was silent.

"But I told her no," Gibbs said quietly. "I'd alredy told her it was a once only event. And anyway, my dance card is full."

Tony chuckled. "Glad to hear it," he replied softly, his smile sounding through his words.

There was a pause before Gibbs spoke again, his tone a little guarded. "You know this can't change what happens at work."

"I know Boss."

"At work, it's gotta stay strictly professional."

"Sure thing, Boss."

"And on weekends..."

"On weekends," now Tony was laughing quietly, "it's strictly ballroom. This weekend we could try swing, or if you're feeling adventurous, the ChaCha! After the samba, that should be a piece of cake."

There was a sudden clatter from the other side of the wall, but neither man turned, instead simply continuing to smile at each other.

"Can I lead this time?" Tony asked with a grin.

"Maybe," was more than he had hoped for.

FF_1569342_1026767128


End file.
